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The Morning (D'banj, Raekwon, Pusha T, Common, 2 Chainz, Cyhi The Prynce, Kid Cudi & D'Banj)
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Lyrics
Original
Translation
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Stutterin'
Give 'em the rest and make 'em love again
In my best, I be the runner dem
And I have the man dem stutterin'
I'm getting this nigga in the morning
He gon' think he been chiefing, just too long when
He see me in the evening
Wanna catch all these feelings
Well, let me be the first to get mine (yeah, ayo), oh (ayo)
Barbeque and blow in the back of the crib
Sitting and counting, smoking a spliff, this shit's a gift
All my niggas watches is rough
Grabbin' our crotches, yellin', "What up?"
The jeans cost five hundred? Fuck
Stop it, keep baking, see the smell, it's a statement
One freeze of this shit, you won't feel your legs, kid
I'm a gangster, corporate hustler, my voice is illustrious
Hounded by vicious dons, nigga, we armed, trust me, bruh
They yellin', "Chef killer, play with the cooks"
I say, "Yay", with two chains on, we common, let's push
Burn another bush then burn another, we brothers
Love us or not, the Mark Zuckerbergs of the block
Hug a knot, staying rich, we was built for the guap
Park the green six deuce on the deuce, just props
Rock a kilt, mean Glock, I'm all machinery, ock
Cling to me, now see how the scenery rock, yo
I'm getting this nigga in the morning
He gon' think he been chiefing, just too long when
He see me in the evening
Wanna catch all these feelings
Well, let me be the first to get mine, oh
I was born by a lake, chicken shack and a church
That mean the flow got wings, and it come from the dirt
Godly, I know she wanna test the 'Rari
Eye on a dollar like Illuminati
Life is foggy, trying to see through the mist of it
Could have been living it, you was Mrs. Mischievous
This is just a letter to better your development (oh)
Situation delicate
Some claim God body, blame Illuminati
All 'cause his pockets now knotty as his hair, yeah
All Sonny, no Cher, only solitaires
You clusterfucks could cluster up on tippy-toe and still not muster up
So it's (ashes to ashes, dust to dust)
In God, we trust, the game is all us
'Til the sky calls or it's flames on us, Push
I'm getting this nigga in the morning
He gon' think he been chiefing, just too long when
He see me in the evening (yeah)
Wanna catch all these feelings (true)
Well, let me be the first to get mine (2 Chainz), oh
I'm chilling in my camo, I'm flipping through the channel (channel)
On my G.O.O.D. Music shit, my logo's a Lambo (damn)
Four doors of ammo
Ammunition, I'm pitching
To make your body (yeah) switch, another position
I hope the people is listening
I could never sell my soul, I gave it back to God at my christening
It's tickling when I hear what haters be whispering
What makes you think the Illuminati would ever let some niggas in?
Huh, fake friends and siblings
Like to wish you well, but ain't never flicked a nickel in
Haters wanna pull they pistol when they see me in this race car
But you can't spell war without a A-R
15, I was pushing carts at K-Mart
By 21, they said I'd be inside a graveyard
Can't wait to get that black American Express
So, I can show them white folks how to really pull the race card
(Oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh), yeah, you feeling on top now?
Getting that money, nigga? (You, you sold your soul)
(Hey, hey), yeah, you feeling on top now?
(Hey, hey) getting that money, nigga? (You sold your soul)
(Oh, oh-oh-oh), yeah, you feeling on top now?
Getting that money, nigga?
(Hey, hey) nah, man, mad people was fronting
(Hey, hey) aw, man, made something from nothing
I treat the label like money from my shows
G.O.O.D. would have been G.O.D., except I added more O's
If I knew she was cheating and still bought her more clothes
It's 'cause I was too busy with my Baltimore, you know
Some people call that the art of war, you know
I guess it depends what you falling for, the clothes?
Cars, money, girls, and the clothes
All money, you sold your soul
Nah, man, mad people was fronting
Goddamn, we made something from nothing
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